


Cherry Bomb

by angelastjoan



Category: Hunger Games (2012) RPF, Josh Hutcherson - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-10 03:11:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelastjoan/pseuds/angelastjoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hello world, I'm your wild girl  - I'm your ch ch ch ch ch cherry bomb" - The Runaways</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just My Luck

I notice him almost immediately. His eyes land on me and then skate right past, earning him raised eyebrows on my behalf. It isn’t a surprise when I watch in amusement as his gaze goes on a return trip and finds me once again.

 

I raise my drink in salute and he makes a near imperceptible nod in return. I flash him a quick smile and his answering one is hesitant as a dimple flashes in his cheek and the corner of his mouth lifts up before he pulls his Reds cap further down over his eyes.

 

I can’t tell what color his hair is from where I stand. I can’t tell what color his eyes are either. The only thing I am absolutely sure about is that I haven’t been with a man for more than a year, toys and strapons excluded, and I am suddenly very hungry for one.

 

I lick my lips, wetting them in appreciation for the figure sitting across the busy nightclub. He isn’t in the VIP section but he is close to the roped off partition.

 

My friends and co-workers are currently occupying that portion of the raised bar area. A half dozen of us are celebrating the renewal of our contracts and our significant others have come along for the bar crawl.

 

But not mine.

 

Because I don’t have one.

 

It is something I have been working on but it’s hard to find a man that doesn’t flip his shit over what you do when you are in the same line of work as me. The only guys accepting of my specific job work where I work and do what I do and I will never ever again mix business with pleasure.

 

I have learned my lesson well and every time I have to sit down in the makeup chair to have the inch long pink scar covered up where my neck meets my shoulder, I remember and relive that incident. I will never forget coming home to a quiet and dark apartment only to watch Ben stare up at me with a wounded look from the couch. I had walked over to him, crouched down in front of him to ask him if everything was okay. I had let down my guard, and he had rammed a pen into the soft skin at the crook of my neck, narrowly missing my aorta.

 

Because of jealousy.

 

Because I had chosen to renew my contract with the agency for only girl on girl action instead of choosing to work with him.

 

Now he is locked up in San Quentin and he’ll stay there for a life term.

 

He had attacked me for choosing gay porn and now he is the one living in a prison and hopefully acting one out every day for the rest of his life. Seems fitting.

 

My hand has wandered up to my neck in memory, affecting a flirtatious pose when that is not my intent. 

 

But the man across the floor is still watching me and so I trail my fingers across my collarbone to the deep V of my natural cleavage. I’ve been gifted with a generous rack that I don’t plan on enhancing until I absolutely have to and even then I’ll probably consider retirement first.

 

For now I am set with what I have and I know this because his eyes never once stray from where my fingers skim across the top of my breast and down the front of my white tank top. The black bra I wear beneath is made even more visible by the strobe lights that shine down on me. 

 

Grinning and willing to play I bring my hand back up sensually until I caress my neck and then I trail a finger to my mouth, nip it with my teeth and then hold it loosely between my lips. His eyes dart from my lips to my eyes and I boldly wink.

 

I watch his throat move as he swallows hard and then I focus on the way he shifts in the leather chair set back from the table. There are people on either side of him and I watch a brunette lean toward him as she speaks. He moves his eyes away from me, nodding at her words, and I decide to let him off the hook.

 

I like to play with my food and while he had appeared to enjoy the show, his body language hadn’t opened up to me one bit. Instead I turn toward the bar and hold up two fingers, signaling another round of doubles for the VIPs and then I flow through the group of bodies gyrating on the dance floor towards the steps leading up to the velvet rope. He is seated to my right and in the interest of both of our nights I avoid eye contact with him and let my ballet flats lead me up the carpeted steps to where the bouncer, George, waits.

 

“Miss B.”

 

I pat the imposing man on his wide chest as he unhooks the purple rope and allows me room to slide through.

 

“Hey, big guy. You wanna celebrate with us?”

 

He raises an eyebrow at me to put me in my place and I laugh. After a moment in which he looks thoughtful he finally smiles and shakes his head at me. “Go join the ladies. I’ll keep the creeps out.”

 

His eyes involuntarily touch down on my neck; like many people I interact with, he knows what happened to me. It isn’t exactly a secret.

 

I quit drinking after the third round. It is something expected by now and everyone around me is sloppy and drunk. George leans over towards me and announces, “Last call.”

 

I shake my head in reply. Everyone is plastered and there are more than a few lap dances going on at our table. I lean back towards him and answer, “I think we’re good.” My eyes wander to the dance floor that still sways strong to the beat of the electronic pop that bumps from the speakers. “Do you think you could get Marshall to play something slower that I can dance to?” 

 

George nods and steps back, picking up a phone set on a table by the wall. After a moment of conversation Marshall hold up three fingers from across the crowded room where he’s standing in the DJ booth and I wave in reply. I scoot out from behind the table and let George assist me down the stairs. He treats all of the women like gold and I appreciate the hell out of him for it. I turn and say, “You should come dance with me.”

 

A soft flush crawls up his cheeks and I lean into his large frame, wrapping an arm around him in a hug, the top of my head not even close to reaching his armpit. He gives me a pat and lets go of my hand as I wander into the gyrating mass of bodies.

 

I find a comfortable spot and start to get into the rhythm, my hips circulating to the left and then the right, rolling with the faster tempo. Suddenly the beat calms down and Marshall segues Mindless Self Indulgence into something much slower that reminds me of Siouxsie and the Banshees. I close my eyes as I let the soft tendrils of music kiss my skin and soothe my nerves.

 

I like hanging out with the gang, and I even enjoy a drink or two here and there, but this is my favorite part about going to the club. This moment in time when I can raise my arms above my head and bump and grind my hips in cadence to a sweet beat makes spending a night out worthwhile.

 

On a Friday night I’m usually in my p.j.’s watching a horror movie with my two besties Ben & Jerry. But sometimes dressing up and coming out for a celebratory night with a dozen of my closest friends helps to recharge my batteries.

 

The warm hand that slips across my waist and flattens against my abdomen to pull me back until my ass fits snug against rough denim is possessive and hard. I look down at the back of the hand, a sprinkling of brown hair scattered across his knuckles and a thick thumb sweeps against the charm dangling from my navel. His breath is warm and smells of mint when he speaks beside my ear, “You look familiar.”

 

I get that a lot and as an opening line it’s not very original. I turn towards his arm forcing his hand to settle against my lower back. His other hand palms my hip and I look up at him, placing my hands on his shoulders as I continue the rotation of my hips with the thumping bass of the song. My eyes narrow on the face hidden half under the Reds cap. Of course it’s the hottie from earlier, but now that he’s up close I can’t help but think I’ve seen him somewhere as well.

 

“Makes two of us.” I tilt my head to the right to get a different angle, speaking as I narrow my eyes, “Have we met before?”

 

His smile is quick and it hits me all of a sudden. I suck in a startled breath and move out of his embrace, my body coming to a standstill, no longer feeling the music under my feet through the floor even though I know it is still there.

 

His brows raise as he watches me withdraw. He reaches out a hand to steady me and I choke out the words, “You can’t be seen with me. Don’t you know who I am?” Angrily I shake my head at him as I speak and then I turn towards the upper deck where George is waiting. I can tell by his body language he has been watching the whole exchange and I hurry up the stairs to him. “You okay, Miss B?”

 

I grab my bag with one hand and my phone from the table with my other and slip it into the back pocket of my miniscule jean shorts. I place a hand to George’s arm and reply, “I’m fine. He wasn’t bothering me. I just need to get out of here.” His head bobs towards the VIP exit in a dark corner of the upper deck and I wave to him as I slip out of the heavy black metal door.

 

I push my arms into the sleeves of my sweatshirt and zip it up, pulling the hood up and over my long red hair. I stop at the corner and raise my hand, hailing a cab. As the yellow car pulls over and stops beside me, a hand reaches around me to open the door. I recognize the hand and I take a step back away from him. “I’ll catch the next one.” I turn without meeting his eyes and start walking in the opposite direction. I hear the cab door slam behind me and breathe a sigh of relief. My walking slows to a normal pace and just as I pass the alley on the side of the nightclub quick hands grab me and pull me up against a hard body. I’m forcibly walked forward into the dark recess of the small gap between buildings.

 

I can tell it’s him just by his smell and the feel of his body. I’m pretty sure the shape of his body is imprinted in my mind even though it’s only the second time I’ve been held against it.

 

I turn as he loosens his grip and I shove both hands at his chest, pushing him back a few steps. He stands there with a good two feet separating us. His brows are drawn down low over his sharp eyes as he searches my face for any sign of recognition. “Who are you? I know you know me but I swear I’ve seen you before.”

 

I sigh in frustration. “I’m a porn star, Josh. You’ve probably rubbed one out to me before. That’s why you can’t be seen with me!”

 

“Porn star?” His hand reaches towards me to push the hood of my sweatshirt back and I jerk away from him.

 

“Yes. I’m a porn star. Now please, just let me go.” I shake my head, choking back my sadness that we have such combustible chemistry but we’ll never get to explore it. I know I’m not good for his image. I’m a publicists worst nightmare and I see the understanding dawn on his face. I smirk and sidle away from him. “It was nice to meet you, Josh.”

 

I’m at the mouth of the alley about to step into the circle of light cast on the sidewalk by the overhead lamp when his voice carries over to me, “I don’t even know your name.”

 

I shake my head as I look right then left. I glance over my shoulder as I honestly reply, “What difference would it make?” And then I take off towards a waiting line of taxis that weren’t there five minutes before and duck into one. I slide onto the cold leather seat and lock the curbside door just in case he chooses to follow me again.

 

But he doesn’t. ‘Josh Hutcherson,’ I think and laugh out loud at the absurdity. One of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors and in the running for Sexiest Man for 2014.

 

Just my luck.


	2. Sweet Talker

I run my hands through her hair, my legs are parted wide, giving her ultimate access to all of my most private parts. Her tongue flicks out hesitantly and I slip into character and say, “Use your tongue. Fuck my pussy with your tongue.”  When I watch Lola falter I tighten my grip in her hair and growl, “Now, slave.”  I bring her face forcefully to my folds and roll my shoulders back and quiver as if she is actually doing anything more than pressing her mouth to me delicately.  I hear Jerry yell “Cut!” just as I roll my eyes back in my head in the throes of ecstasy.

 

I let go of Lola and she sits back, grinning at me from her knees on the floor.  I scoot forward on the chaise and fix her hair where my hands have formed knots in her honey colored strands.  I can’t help but return her grin as I question her good mood, “What’s up with you?”

 

She shrugs even as makeup converges on us and we’re touched up, special attention paid to my scar and my inner thighs where my next close up will be.  Finally she has just enough time to say, “I have a date tonight.”  My eyebrows raise in question and I grin with banked excitement.  Lola has been single for longer than I have and it’s hard to watch a good girl go to waste.

 

I resume my position as Jerry says, “Places, people.  And – action.”  Lola dives right in and it isn’t long before I go into the zone. I make all the right noises and faces and I act my part and I’m shifting my hips up against her, riding her face like the assertive dyke I am when I hear Lola giggle and I immediately choke back a laugh.  Her tongue spears me and then her giggle escapes from between my folds.

 

Hoping to save the shot I push her head back by her hair and slap her hard enough to sting my hand and pray I don’t wince. She blinks her clear brown eyes up at me and I say, “Do you think this is funny?”  She shakes her head no as if she’s truly being admonished and her bottom lip quivers. I pull her face back to between my thighs and she eats me out until I fake my way through an orgasm, clenching my thighs against her head as I pretend to come.

 

Jerry calls it a wrap and I immediately sit up and pull her to me.  I’m older than Lola by five years and I have a wild maternal streak where she’s concerned.  I run my fingers across the light pink handprint I left behind, “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

 

She shakes her head and shrugs, “It’s okay, I barely felt it.”

 

That’s as much of an admission as I need. She has just told me in barely a whole sentence that a sound slap is not the worst she’s suffered. I press a soothing kiss to her cheek in apology and say, “Now tell me about this date.”

 

We film a few more scenes and then it’s a wrap and I retire to the dressing room where I change into my street clothes.

 

I pull my sundress on over my head and smooth it down my body before slipping into my flats.  I sling my bag over my shoulder and I push my hair out of my face as I exit the dressing room.  It isn’t until I shove through the double doors that lead out to the parking lot of the converted warehouse that I realize I must have walked right onto another set on the lot.

 

A woman runs past me with a coffee in each hand as she jabbers excitedly into a headset.  I glance around and realize I’m on the wrong side of the chain link fence and that I can see my car from where I am.  I turn around to duck back into the building when a voice next to me says, “Ma’am, you should be in wardrobe.”

 

I turn and sigh with a smile, “I’m not here for that.  I actually was just coming from there,” I point with my thumb over my shoulder, “and went through the wrong set of doors.”

 

The man turns from me and talks into a walkie talkie and then grins when he faces me once more, “Sorry for the misunderstanding, miss.”  His hand settles to my lower back as he leads me to the chain link fence separating the parking lot from this set.  I smile gratefully at him and I listen as he tells me I look familiar.  “I get that alot.”  I grin and thank him as he unchains the gate to keep bystanders out and I’m just slipping through the gap he’s created when I hear another voice cut into our conversation.

 

“Hey!  Wait!”

 

I grimace and thank the P.A. for his helpfulness as I jog to my car, my flats easily striding across the gravel towards my waiting Cherokee. I beep it unlocked and have just opened the door when his hand presses against the window, shutting the door with a solid thud.

 

I throw up my hands as I turn, already aware of who will be standing behind me.  “What?”

 

He steps back and looks toward the set he’s just walked off of which isn’t very professional.

 

His eyes return to me and without the obstruction of the bill from his cap I can see the rusty reds and the deep pine green that mix together in his irises.  I swallow thickly, the tension between us still palpable even in the light of midday and he says as he ducks his head, “Your name is Cherry right?”

 

I stare at him, incapable of speech, unable to fathom why he actually took the time to look me up.  “Yeah.  I’m Cherry.”

 

“Cherry Bomb? That’s really your name?”

 

I roll my eyes at the incredulous hint in his voice as I open my door and place my hand in the seam so he can’t shut it again without taking my fingers off.  “Yes. My real name is Cherry Bomb.” I press my palm to his maroon and gray striped polo as I push him back.  “And your name is Josh Hutcherson.  And we cannot be seen together.  What don’t you get about that?”  I hike myself up into the Jeep, uncaring if my skirt bunches up since I have on a pair of shorts under the flimsy material.  His hands are still on the door frame preventing me from shutting myself in my vehicle.

 

I glance up over his shoulder as a man starts walking towards us calling out his name.  His eyes stay fixed on me and his mouth opens as if he’s going to speak when I lay my head on the steering wheel and roll my forehead against the smooth grooves until I’m looking up at him pleadingly.  “Please, Josh.  Just let me go.  Just forget about me.”

 

His eyes search mine and his lips turn down in a thoughtful pout. He finally drops his hands and I take the opportunity to pull the door shut firmly.

 

I look away from him to start the Jeep and when I glance back up he’s taken a step back from the driver’s side but his arms are crossed over his chest and he’s just staring at me, ignoring the man beside him as he speaks.

 

I break eye contact and put it in drive, then I pull out of the lot.

 

It takes everything I have not to glance in the rearview mirror.  But I don’t.  And that night I reward myself with watching a movie of his while I touch myself.  When I come, I don’t say his name. I don’t dare. But I can’t get the idea of taking a ride with him on his skateboard out of my mind.

 

Two days.

 

That’s how many days have passed, the exchange in the parking lot pushed to the back of my mind, when I show up at work in a pair of yoga pants and a loose Beatles t-shirt.  I hear the sound of feet beating pavement and I look up just as he skids to a stop in front of me. I close my eyes in defeat. Why does he keep doing this to me? Just when I’m sure I’ve put the chemistry behind us he pops up and destroys all of my resolve.

 

“I was thinking that maybe we could do dinner. I know this really private place and no one will have to know since that seems to be your main concern.” I open my mouth to shoot down his idea, we both know paparazzi can be ruthless, when he says, “Before you say no just think about it. We can order room service and rent a movie. No big deal.”

 

I shake my head to clear it, unsure if I’m understanding him correctly. “You want to get a hotel room?”

****

He stares at me for a beat as if the implication is just sinking in, “Well, not like that. I meant just for the privacy of having a hotel room and I promise all clothes will stay on.”

 

I lick my dry lips nervously, we’re standing out in the open in front of the warehouse we’re currently filming the next installment of Indiana Bones. Finally, I reach around him and open the door leading inside. "Do you have an hour to spare?"

****

He nods readily. "Yeah. I'm free until lunch."

****

I have a plan but it could go either way. He could walk away totally repulsed or it could backfire and create more interest. Either way he'd stop looking at me like I was something worthy of his attention.

****

I lead him into the brightly-lit hollowed-out building. One huge set with a dirt floor and trick walls is off to the right while a few smaller rooms sit to the left. I motion to a couple of chairs nearby, "Why don't you stick around if you have time. Get a feel for what I do."

****

His eyes flash a deeper hue as he takes a step toward me. "I already know what you do."

****

I can tell in the hooded way he watches me that it turns him on. He licks his lips and my thighs tighten up. We stare at each other, the strong desire flaring between us banked when finally I back away and breathe out, "That can't be good."

****

Josh's lips twitch at the corners as he watches me retreat. "That's where you and I see it differently, Cherry. It can only be great."

****

I raise a hand as I walk backwards to the makeup room. "Either way it's going to end in disaster." He smirks and tilts his head as if he can hear my softly spoken words. A little louder I say, "I'll send Tim out to get you and show you to the set."

****

His eyes never stray from mine and he nods confidently. I groan and turn around, jogging away.  What am I doing? Was I prepared to play this game?

****

What I really want is an easy lay. I am willing to forego the relationship part of it because I’m too damaged after my last one to even want to try to make it work. Not to mention this is an A list celebrity and it would be career suicide for him to be seen with me let alone rumored to be with me.

****

I scoot into the makeup and wardrobe room and plop into my seat. "You're five minutes late, Miss B."

****

"I know, Priss. I ran into a, well, a complication you could say."

****

Tim sticks his head into the room, he’s my assistant on set and is never more than a few feet from wherever I am.  "Good morning, Miss B."

****

I wave him over. "Morning, Tim. I brought a guest with me today. I need you to get him set up to watch from the sidelines for the first scene."

****

Every pair of eyes in the room shift over to me. Inviting a guest on set is usually cleared through security. Not to mention I have not brought anyone to work with me since my failure of a relationship. Porn sets are locked down for a reason, especially ones on as grand a scale as this. Our project is comparable to the Pirates franchise; only less scurvy and more one on one action with myself as top billing. I will be the first female porn star to carry a movie. And that means while I’m on set what I say goes, even though I hate throwing my weight around.

****

Tim gives me an ‘okay’ hand signal as he backs out of the dressing room.

****

I blow out a nervous breath as my makeup is applied. I’ve just invited the very famous Josh Hutcherson to come watch me at work where we are filming an orgy scene today. With a strap on.  And I’ll be the one wearing it.

****

I groan softly and close my eyes. What the fuck am I thinking?

****

 


	3. A Warm Body

I sit in my dressing room longer than I need to.  I know they will wait for me because I am the star of the show but I also know he will also wait for me no matter how long I stall.  He isn't going anywhere.

****

And we both know it.

****

A soft rap of knuckles against the door and a quick, "Miss B?  We're ready for you on set." propel me out of my seat.  I’m not this diva that holds up the schedule for my own perverse reasons. I am a professional and act thusly on set.  I’m also aware that is one of the reasons I am such a hot commodity.  I have watched the porn industry build egos and just as quickly tear them down and I had resolved long ago to never let mine get out of control. I haven't so far but there are days when I enjoy being pampered and catered to like any woman does.

****

I grab the robe from the back of my chair and wrap the soft cotton around my scantily clad torso.  The black and red lace provide no coverage, my nipples straining against the flimsy, sheer material. The demi cups push the girls up and separate them until they seem to have lives of their own. The g-string that hides nothing down below is uncomfortable but I know I won't be wearing it long anyway. My red hair hangs in loose waves down my back, extensions provide volume and my makeup is expertly applied.  

****

I follow the set advisor out of the dressing room and over to the den of iniquity. I don't look up to find him. I can feel his eyes on me, my thighs clenching tight in response and I use a cupped hand to raise the hair off the back of my neck to cool me off.

****

For the most part the set is closed.  There are a handful of gaffers and key grips but the only person not usually there is Josh and I know Jerry is wondering about the extra set of eyes.  

****

I shrug my robe off and leave it with my assistant before I stride the short distance to where the other girls are being strategically placed.  Andrea is already laid back on the bed, waiting, so I put a knee between her legs and my hands on either side of her shoulders flat against the comforter and return her grin with my own.  Her blue eyes swirl with laughter as she says, "I see we have an audience."  

****

I roll my eyes and bite my lip as I reply, "I couldn't shake him off."

****

She bobs her eyebrows at me and replies with a drawn out, "I don't know why anyone would want to. He's a fine specimen of a man."

****

The lighting is adjusted to our intimate position and a makeup person comes over to touch up the scar on my shoulder and Andrea grows a little more sober.  Her voice is soft as she looks up into my eyes and whispers, "We all have scars, Cherry.  Some are just more visible than others."  

****

With a soft smile I lean down and place my forehead to hers and with the tips of our noses just touching I breathe, "Thank you, Andi."

****

She grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of my mouth.  I blink back the emotion and raise my head as Jerry yells out, "Places!  And - Action!"

****

I lower myself slowly as I slip into character and speak close to Andi's face, "You've been a bad girl, haven't you?  Do you know what I do to my girls when they misbehave?"

****

Andi makes her eyes go wide and her voice quiver when she replies, "N-no, ma'am.  I d-don't know."

****

My eyes narrow and I smile wickedly.  All around us girls are paired off and going at each other.  On the chaise next to the window a couple are involved in what would eventually lead up to an intense fisting session.  In a corner on a pile of soft blankets a threesome writhes against each other, their moans getting louder with their ministrations.  I block it all out as background noise and I slowly push myself up and off her.  My knee nudges against the apex of her thighs and she moans softly, whimpering when I back away from the bed.  

****

I turn and walk toward the table of toys where the camera points right at my face.  I grin as I run my hands across the instruments and say in a deceptively calm voice, "Bad girls have to be punished."  I pick up the strap on harness and the thick black latex cock and raise it to my mouth. I stroke my tongue along the shaft to the tip, sucking the head between my parted lips, then pulling it back out with a popping noise.  

****

On cue every girl stops what she is doing and raises their heads to look at me.  I turn back towards the waiting orgy and slap the side of the cock against my open palm as I instruct, "Line up and prepare to be punished."

****

Jerry yells out, "Cut!"  And I laugh as Andi's eyes crinkle at the corner.  She playfully makes a come hither motion and jokes, "Ooh, punish me with your big, black cock baby."

****

I toss it at her and she catches it two handed, squealing.

****

I have nearly forgotten Josh is even in the far corner watching the scene unfold until Sissy comes over and asks me who the hottie is while the assistant secures the dildo in the harness and affixes it to my hips after I’ve pushed my panties down and stepped out of them.

****

I finally risk a glance over to him and adjust the rubber dick hanging in front of me to find a comfortable position. I watch his shoulders bunch as he sits forward, his eyes locking onto mine, his lips parting and his tongue sweeping out to wet them. I break eye contact because I can feel my body start to flush with heat and I don’t want to have to explain the blush.

****

“He’s just a friend.”  My reply is lost on her as she gives my fake cock a swat and heads over to take her place on the bed to make six in all.  

****

I have a long day ahead of me.  I sigh and get in position, my strap on between Andi’s thighs while my hands part the folds of the girls on either side of her.  Pleasing three girls at once is going to be a challenge.  Thankfully it doesn’t have to be real, it just has to look it.

****

I lose count of the orgasms.  Andi’s first was real and she turned her face towards the girl on her right and they shared a sloppy kiss as she came, moaning around Heather’s tongue.  I make my rounds and after the last girl is properly fucked I unstrap the harness and toss it aside.  

****

My hips are tired of thrusting and I climb up onto the center of the bed and start to finger myself.  I’m wet and ready and I plunge three fingers into the wet heat between my slick thighs.  The girls are in various relaxing positions but as Jerry softly says, “Now.”  They all start crawling towards me and a mouth joins my fingers while another set of lips latch onto a nipple.  The camera behind us moves in closer and I come, real orgasms wracking my body as I arch up off the bed, one after another until I‘m not sure I can come again but Andi steps up to the challenge and wrings one last screaming orgasm out of me as she sucks on my sensitive clit.

****

Jerry yells for a wrap and we all melt back into the comforter, boneless masses lumped on top of one another.

****

Andi curls close to my side and says, “Can we just take a nap here for a few hours?”

****

I push her sweaty hair off her forehead and thank her for the orgasm.  “You were amazing.”

****

She butts me with her cheek and then sits up and stretches.  “Me?  You actually gave me an orgasm.  That was my first in a month.  I thought I had lost the ability.”

****

I giggle because it’s true and then grab onto her arm to help pull myself up.  “It’s all in the hips.”

****

She laughs as she nods towards the edge of the set where Josh waits, arms crossed in front of him, chest and shoulders bulging with tension.  “I wonder if he’d agree.”

****

I clear my throat and ready myself for the brush off he is about to deliver. My bra had been discarded at some point and is lost among the other intimates strewn about the room.  I scoop my robe out of the hands of my assistant and shrug into it. I step up beside Josh and say very quietly, “Please don’t say anything until we’re in the dressing room.”

****

His chin rises in a barely perceptible nod and he moves his hands down to his hips before restlessly plunging them into his pockets. I turn from him, attempting to clear the disappointment from my eyes as I lead the way to the room. Everyone is in various states of nudity but he has seen it all.  I walk over to my vanity which is a little further away from everyone else’s and sit in my chair.  I motion towards a straight back make up chair a few feet away and Josh shakes his head, opting to stand.  

****

I stare up at him and watch his jaw clench repeatedly, a tic that flexes in time with his biceps.  It doesn’t take long for everyone to file out of the room, Andi glancing back over at me to say goodbye.  I smile at her and wave her off.  As soon as the door shuts his hands reach out and pull me towards him by the lapels of the cotton robe.  I come up off my chair and stand against him, an inch or two separating out heights.  

****

His eyes stay on mine as he slowly pushes the material off my shoulders to fall back.

****

I swallow at the intensity of his stare and whisper his name as I feel my sudden return to nudity. The robe drifts to the floor and Josh’s eyes drop down to take me in and then return quickly to my face.

****

“Josh?”

****

“Hmm?”  It’s a purr more than a word and I touch a palm to the front of his shirt near his abs.

****

“What are you doing?”

****

“Mmm.”  His lips fall to my neck, the right side, the opposite side of where my scar rests.  His nose presses close to my skin and his lips part enough to say, “I want you really bad, Cherry.”

****

I close my eyes and tilt my head to the side, letting him lure me in with his thick rich voice that soaks into my body.  I lean into him, letting him hold me up in his arms and when my lower half shifts into his I feel his admission in the straining length against the front of his jeans.

****

He presses his hips forward and moans, the sound vibrating against my shoulder.  His hands run down my arms to my side to my back and down to my ass where he cups each cheek and then lifts.  I haven’t been with a man in a very long time and I had forgotten where their strengths differed from ours.  I clutch at his shoulders as he spins us toward the wall, my legs high around his waist and his palms squeezing each rounded globe of flesh.  He presses his denim covered cock against my heated core and I swivel my hips in answer.

****

His lips burn a path to mine and then his tongue rubs against mine while his lower half mimics what he wants.  I roughly bring one hand down between us and shove his shirt up to his chin so my breasts can rest against his bare skin.  Our stomachs press together, the jeweled piercing in my navel scraping against his abs as he thrusts against me.  

****

I raise one hand to his hair and clutch it tight as I come, pulling his face from mine as I buck against him and choke out his name.  One hand leaves my ass to press against the wall beside my head as he strokes his length along my slit over and over until I feel his jeans saturate from our combined juices and I use my grip on his hair to pull his head to me, my teeth latching onto his earlobe.  I scrape the soft skin before I say roughly, “Come for me, Josh.  I want to hear my name.”

****

He grunts in response and shudders as he says my name over and over, “Cherry, Cherry, Cherry,” and then he comes and his voice drops to a rough timbre as he shouts, “Fuck!”

****

He presses me against the wall, locking his knees so we won’t collapse to the ground.

****

His breathing is harsh and his voice is hoarse when he finally speaks.  “I’ve never been more turned on in my life than when I was watching you with that strap on.”

****

My lips press to his jugular and they curve upwards in a smile as I process this.  Giggling I say, “Are you a bad boy, Josh?”

****

I feel his adam's apple bob in reply as he swallows hard.  “What would you do to me if I said yes?”

****

I lean back to look at him and am stunned at the pleading look on his face as if he’s seriously considering all the kinky aspects of what admitting to being a bad boy might entail.

****

It’s my turn to swallow hard.  “Josh, I don’t-”  I shake my head.  “It’s for the cameras.  I’ve never-”

****

He nods and presses a kiss to my lips, effectively shutting me up.  When he pulls out of the kiss he says, “I’ll take whatever you can give me, Cherry.”

****

I close my eyes and mentally prepare myself for what I’m about to do.  It’s been a long time since I’ve had a man and I really want this one.  I know a relationship will never work between us, but maybe - just maybe, he’ll agree to what I can give him, mutual gratification and a warm body to get off to.

****

It’s all I can offer.  


End file.
